A Failed Harrowing
by Jadestonewinnifer
Summary: A year before the blight a harrowing in the Circle Tower of Ferelden goes terribly wrong when Oswin a young initiate ends up possessed by a demon. He's able to hide the fact initially from the Templars but for how long? Radella a young initiate aids him.
1. Chapter 1

Oswin was trembling. Sweat ran down his temples. He heaved and just stopped sort of vomiting. He lurched forward toward a blurred figure.

"So, how was your Harrowing?"

The words were like daggers pricing his throbbing head. Oswin winced and grasped the initiate's shoulder, half trying to push past her, half using her as support to stand.

"Oh no you don't. You won't slip by me so quickly." Lilian side stepped his clumsy attempt to get past her once again blocking Oswin's path. "Come on now, out with it. What was it like?"

Oswin glowered at her, his face contorted in pain. Normally, such ideal chatter would have be his forte, especially with this pretty young mage who he had been flirting with for several months, but now. But now everything was different "It… was... Harrowing," he managed with much difficulty through clenched teeth.

"Oh very funny Oswin," she rolled her eyes and grabbed his left hand in both of hers and snuggled up to him seductively. "Come now, you can't even give me a tiny little hint?" She purred in his ear. Then she paused, a confused look crossing over her face "Are you, ok? You look like you've been through hell. Was it really that bad?"

"Leave me alone Lilian," Oswin grunted as he twisted his arm out of the girls grip, shoving her backward slightly. He staggered back from the effort and grasped the cold damp stones of the tower wall to keep himself upright.

She pouted, looking hurt. "Look I know your stressed, but that was uncalled for." She snapped, giving him a terse look that could curdle milk. Lilian turned on her heel, and stormed away, "I was only trying to congratulate you. But I see you don't want anything to do with simple initiates any longer." Eirwen stomped around one of the twisting corridors of the tower and was gone.

Oswin sunk against the cold stone wall, sliding down it slightly so he was slouched over. "What is there to congratulate?" he moaned. His vision was muddled, as though he were seeing through smoke.

_I'd say there is a great deal to congratulate_, a low blood curdling voice chuckled in his mind.

Oswin howled clutching the sides of his head in anguish, pushing his fingers into his throbbing temples. "No, no, no, no, no, no…" he muttered over and over to himself, like some lyrium addled old templar. Sinking to the floor he stayed there several minutes, before the fear began to creep up on him. He pulled himself to his feet. "Come on Oswin, this looks a little suspicious, don't you think? Have to pull myself together. Someone is going to notice… kill you." He staggered forward. "Fix this…. I can… if I could just…" His shoes felt as though they were lead as he lurched down the hall toward the library.

The library was strangely deserted this morning. But Oswin wasn't one to tempt the fates by questioning it. They were doing several harrowings this morning, and his had been the first. He supposed the others were tensely awaiting the outcome, unable to study. Who of their friends would stagger out of that room alive, and who would… well, he should be dead.

The large room smelled of dust and ink, filled with shelves so high half of the books were out of reach. It was empty except for a single templar. Oswin stumbled to one of the shelves. His eyes darted nervously toward the templar and away again. The Knight was an older man with a short white beard and scar covering most of his left eye. The maimed eye was pearly white in stark contrast with its blue partner. Oswin knew this man, but not by name. He wasn't one to chat with his charges. The templar assessed him with his good eye then continued staring blankly ahead.

"Where to look…" he muttered riffling through the books. Nothing here would have what he needed. The only recommendation he'd find in the general collection for dealing with a possessed mage would be the end of a templar's sword. What he needed would be in the restricted section… if it was even here.

But searching there was impossible with the righteous soldier present. He needed a distraction. Oswin pulled a book off the shelf at random and buried his face in it, pretending to read. The pain in his head had subsided slightly. His vision was clearer. Oswin took a moment to reinforce the magical barrier he had constructed in his mind. To contain the evil that had made its way there.

_Are you frightened little mage? I like this feeling. Your heart races, adrenalin pumps through your veins. I hope you have it more often._

Oswin managed to resist crying out as pain searing through his scalp. The book hit the floor with a dull thud, getting the templar's attention. He was now eyeing the young mage suspiciously. "Clumsy..." Oswin muttered. Managing a weak smile, the Templar continued to regard him with indifferent disdain before letting his gaze wonder.

He had to come up with something. Anything to have a moment alone in the library. Squeezing his eyes shut Oswin tried to think through the fog.

_I could help you little mage. Killing this man would take but a moment. We could escape you and I, be safe. That's all you want right? You must have faith in yourself; take pride in your strength. Let me help you._

He swallowed hard and shut his eyes. "I passed Commander Gregoir in the hall on my way here. I think he wanted help with something..." he managed to choke out though the words were strained and unnatural sounding, as though they came from very far away. He looked weakly at the old man.

The templar blinked and looked at him as though he just remembered they were in the room together "What did you say? Spit it out."

Oswin shrugged. "I'm not sure, something about the cellar. An infestation?"

"Ehh?" the templar grunted. "My post is in the library. I'm sure they'll be able to handle it." He paused and gave Oswin a hard stare. "You look ill. What's wrong with you?" the large man took several steps forward and Oswin suddenly felt his back hit the bookshelf behind him. Several large scrolls tumbled from over his head and scattered on the floor between them. He scrambled to his knees and started to gather them in his arms.

_He's made you! Take my offer quickly now while you have the chance! Let down these weak little walls. I'll break through them soon anyhow._

"I'm FINE" he said with a more vigor than the words required. "Fine, just on edge after my harrowing. The knight-commander was pulling others off their posts is all. I hope it's not serious."

The man eyed him suspiciously for a moment. "Well I suppose you are the only one here. I could check it out," he muttered. "But you are to leave the library at once and return to the barracks." He snapped authoritatively.

"Of course," he chirped and piled the scrolls in his arms haphazardly on the shelf in no particular order. The obedience came on reflex. He had always been obedient. That was about to change.

Slowly the old Templar walked through the door, but not before gesturing for Oswin to go first. He complied though his knees shook and he stumbled but managed not to fall. Oswin turned right out of the hallway and began slowly walking toward the barracks as the templar went the other way. As soon as the old man had rounded the corner Oswin sighed with relief.

"Praise the Maker." He darted back into the library. He could only pray to Andraste that there actually was something wrong with the cellar.

He clung to the bookshelves as he slowly pulled himself toward the restricted section. His eyes darted over the titles. "No, no, no, no, Yes!" he said snatching a large book off the shelf. He stumbled toward the large table used for studying at the center of the room. He opened the large black leather bound Grimoire and began flipping through it frantically.

_That is right little mage. Let your attention wonder to other things. Let your concentration slip from containing me. Every inch you lose my roots sink deeper into your mind. _

Oswin slammed his head into the dusty pages of the book. "Shut up, Shut up, Shut up!' he yelled, his voice breaking tears streamming down his face. His cries were muffled by the pages. Oswin's hands clutched his raven hair so tightly he was close to pulling it out in clumps.


	2. Chapter 2

Radella clenched her quill so tightly she worried it might snap.

_You did the right thing. _

Why did the words make her so angry? She stared at her own hand writing, scrawled in with a delicate looping elegance across the paper. Why did it feel like a lie?

But what else was she suppose to tell her mother. The woman had made an impossible choice. She had done the only thing she could; abided by the law and the Maker. Radella had no right to be furious with her. But she was. With shaking hands she pushed her unfinished letter aside and let her fingertips glide over the one she had received from her mother this morning. She still had difficultly grasping its contents. She could almost hear her mother's voice as she read over the troubling words.

_Radella my love, _

_I so sorry but I have terrible news. Your brother Payton has been taken to the gallows. It started weeks ago. He had nightmares at first. He heard voices whispering to him in his sleep. We didn't think much of them; just the childish fears of a boy of six years. But then he started hearing them during the day. That scared me Radella it really did, but I prayed to __Andraste it was a child's wild imagination. Something he'd grow out of with time. It wasn't. _

_There was a really bad storm, you remember how terrified little Payton is of thunder. You remember how he used to hide under the bed when he was scared? Well I had made him a cup of tea the way you used to. Sometimes that comforts him you know, and I can coax him out. But when I came into the room, oh it was just awful Radella. All his books and toys were flying in mid air in huge arks. I screamed and dropped the cup. Then they all fell to the ground. Payton was crying. I didn't know what had happened. He said, the voices told him he could do it. Make the toys fly. _

_I had to tell your father. I couldn't keep something like this from him. Not when Payton, was hearing voices. You know what that could mean; I don't have to tell you. We waited till morning to go to the gallows with him. You would have been proud. The templar there, __Emeric I think__, he was very kind with him. You do just and good work love. _

_He cried of course but we had to let him go. We had to be strong for him. It was for the best. They said we could still write him, though they feel it's better if we keep contact limited. Let him adjust you know. Oh it's been so hard darling I won't lie to you. I've lost my baby boy, why was he shackled with such a curse. _

_I thought losing you to Ferelden after the transfer was going to be the most difficult thing I would have to live through. But now both my children have been taken away from me. I hope you will not be too ashamed of your brother. He cannot help it. I know the curse is something children have from birth but I can't help but blame myself, somehow, that I must have somehow cause this._

_We have tried to keep it quiet. Only our closest family friends in Kirkwall know. The rest we told he had gone to live with family in the Free Marches. We will try our best to make sure none of this follows you to the tower my love. Payton's fate is a tragedy that has hurt us all enough; we will keep it from harming you. _

_Your father and I miss you greatly, but we know you have commitments. We are so proud of you. Know that our family will make it through this terrible tragedy. We love you. _

_With All My Heart,_

_Mother_

They thought she'd be ashamed. She blinked away tears. Her six year old brother had been ripped from his family and they worried about her pride and ambition. She wanted to scream at them. But what good would her anger do them, or her grief.

She was expected to be the voice of reason, the voice of comfort. They wanted her to tell them what a wonderful life mages had in the circle. How they were protected and taught. They lived well and were happy. If asked last night Radella would have been able to give them that comfort. That soft lie she lived every day. It's not so bad here, she'd tell them; for someone else's little boy, but not for her brother.

That's what was expected, what her mother was silently begging for between the lines of her letter. Why were those words now so hard to put to ink? She stared at the nearly blank sheet of paper. And a thought slowly crept into her head. The circle tower is more forgiving than the gallows. She buried her head in her hands and summoned all her strength to keep the tears from coming.

After several silent moments she tossed the quill down on top of the empty parchment and stood. This was too much to handle at the moment. She needed time to digest. She briskly left her room and wondered down the cold stone hallway, her footsteps echoed in the tense silence. The mood was unmistakable. The harrowings upstairs left the entire circle tower in eerier strained quite. As friends, mentors and teachers wanted to find out who of their loved ones would come back to them, and who would not. The atmosphere of fear was not what she wanted to lace her mother's letter with. She needed to find a refuge, a place where the circle was at its best.

She'd go to the library. No other place more represented the best of the circle tower. The dusty shelves and quite study made the circle feel more like a university than a gilded cage. It was a place of learning where the talented practiced there craft. Perhaps there she could find some solace and the words to comfort her mother. It was there that she found him.


End file.
